


stop the suns from setting (on this new horizon)

by LostOnMyRoad



Series: New Horizons Verse [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, slight angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:14:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23993590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostOnMyRoad/pseuds/LostOnMyRoad
Summary: Han would have thrown a fit if he’d ended up in the same position. He would have complained until Chewie growled something to shut him up. Luke can practically hear him yelling.That’s not how the force works, the phantom Han in his head growls.Luke is inclined to agree with him.After all, nowhere in any of Obi-Wan’s (admittedly sparse) training had there been any mention of kriffing time travel.(Or, Luke is thrown back in time to fix the disturbance in the force caused by Order 66, armed with whatever Obi-Wan told him that he managed to remember, one very outdated book from Jocasta Nu, and a feeling that this will end very very badly.)
Relationships: Ahsoka Tano & Clone Troopers, Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Series: New Horizons Verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1730173
Comments: 53
Kudos: 418





	1. twin suns on a desert planet from years ago

**Author's Note:**

> so clone wars season seven made me so fucking emo and i wrote this in an attempt to get some form of catharsis!!! pls enjoy

It happens when Vader’s mask goes up in flames and Luke is happy, watching the Force ghosts of his father, Yoda, and Obi-Wan fade away. Leia and Han hug him close, not quite seeing what he is, but happy to hold each other. They are safe, and they did the impossible. The Jedi will return. A new future stretches out for them, where the Light Side reaches its former glory.

It is a new dawn, a new and brighter future.

And then suddenly he feels weightless, his being surrounded by the Force. He closes his eyes and lets it take him, lost in its embrace.

When he opens his eyes, he finds himself back at Tatooine, of all places, watching the twin suns go down over the endless sandy horizon. As he looks on, confused, a movement at his side startles him. It’s a woman, unlike anyone he has ever seen.

Her eyes are green, the same shade as her hair, which flows down past her waist, partially obscuring her white robes. Her skin is pale like the ice on Hoth, white as a dead moon. She turns towards him, her voice resonating as she speaks.

 _This was the beginning for you, was it not?_ She says, sounding thoughtful. _Twin suns,_ the being muses. She turns away from him. _I am the Daughter. Light side incarnate, slain by my brother years ago. Your father bore witness._

Luke wonders where Vader, or Anakin, met this woman.

 _The Force has chosen you,_ another voice intones. _I am the Father. Mediator between light and dark._ An old man, hair gray and robes in similar shades had spoken. 

Then another being appears, in black and with skin like ash. _And I am the son, the Dark Side given form._ When he smiles, his teeth appear—sharp and pointed, glinting in the dying sunset. His eyes are red like blood.

Luke instinctively reaches for his lightsaber, but the daughter puts her hand on his wrist before he can draw it. She shakes her head. _He is not here to harm you, merely to watch._

Luke finally gathers his wits enough to speak. “Why am I here?”

The one who had called himself the Father straightens. _You are here because the Force has chosen you. You can fix the destruction wrought upon the balance by that wretched Darth Sidious._

“But we defeated him, the Empire is dying—”

 _If only it were enough,_ the Daughter sighs. “ _But the imbalance to the Force is irreparable. That is why you are here, in the World Between Worlds.”_

The Son smiles, and it looks more like a snarl. _Not connected to time or reality, but a place where all of the past, present and future can be seen._

And indeed, Luke can make out the inky darkness beyond this vision of Tattoine and see glimpses of other times. He can see himself flying the X-Wing to take out the Death Star, dying on Hoth, falling after the loss of his arm and the revelation that his father was everything he was fighting against.

It all flickers for a second, along with the forms of the beings. The Daughter in particular hunches over, her form wavering. Oddly enough, the Son looks concerned, reaching over to place a hand on her shoulder. _Sister,_ he says, sounding weary.

 _We must hurry,_ she replies, straightening.

The Father nods, turning once again to Luke. _You will be sent back in time to prevent the extinction of the Jedi. The Force wills it. You will be placed in the past._

“But what about this future? What about Leia and Han? You can’t—”

The Son cuts him off, snarling. _Even I can see the balance must be restored. Though the rise of the Sith was incredible, it has thrown the galaxy out of order. It is not fair. But things rarely are, are they?_ The last bit is said in a mocking tone, and Luke bristles. The sister places her hand on his arm again, and it feels like a sunburn be might have gotten on the moisture farms once upon a time.

 _We understand the burden. But you are the last Jedi, and the new Chosen one. You will be able to help your father. Maybe even save us._ She looks up at the Father at that, at his weary form.

Luke falls onto his behind on the Tatooine sand, hands pressed to his eyes like he can block out the beings if he pretends he can’t see them. Everything had just been getting better. He had gotten his father back. He had everything he ever wanted and never knew he needed.

The Daughter gently pries his hands away from his face. _Take heart, little one. You may feel alone, but you never truly are._ She lets her hand rest on his hair for a half-second, smiling softly. _You remind me of a Padawan I once met. I gave her my life, and I do not regret it. I have faith in you, young Skywalker. You are like her. A supernova, waiting to be unleashed. You can create a brighter future._ She tilts his chin up. _You could save those who protected the galaxy. Save the innocent, the younglings murdered where they stood. The warriors gunned down by their own. A whole path, lost._

And Luke bows his head, already knowing what the right decision is. There was never another choice. As if sensing his acceptance, the Daughter pushes him gently towards the Father.

 _Luke Skywalker,_ he rumbles, _may the Force be with you._

He places a hand on Luke’s forehead. The Daughter places her hand on his right shoulder, while the son places his on his left. The Son’s hand feels like Hoth, brutal cold and ice.

And then he is gone, one with the Force.


	2. ghosts on a strange planet of eons ago

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke prepares to meet his father (again) for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> big thanks to @scarvletchaos on instagram for betaing this chapter, check out her edits!!!

Luke wakes up to the Daughter standing over him. She seems more real, this time, more corporeal. Her form doesn’t waver or glitch like a holo with a bad signal, the way it had in the World Between Worlds. She is beautiful, practically glowing with power. The lack of recognition in her face tells him that this is not the same being who had placed her hand on his and offered what comfort she could before sending him to his trials. He is truly in the past. Kriffing hell.

Han would have thrown a fit if he’d ended up in the same position. He would have complained until Chewie growled something to shut him up. Luke can practically hear him yelling.

_ That’s not how the force works,  _ the phantom Han in his head growls.

Luke is inclined to agree with him.

After all, nowhere in any of Obi-Wan’s (admittedly sparse) training had there been any mention of kriffing  _ time travel. _

The Daughter seems confused as she looks him over, watching as he dusts himself off and stumbles to his feet. It takes a moment, still disoriented from the Force hurling him back in time. He pats himself, making sure he still has everything he had when he had been with Leia and Han at the bonfire. He absolutely doesn’t think about how he may never see them again and how much he misses them already.

He’s gotten to checking his belt when he realizes his lightsaber is no longer clipped to it, and panics. The Daughter takes a surprised step back as he rockets to his feet and frantically looks around for his weapon. Throwing himself down among the shrubbery and the various plants, he finds it a few yards away from where he had arrived on the planet.

He ignites it, watching its green glow. It is comforting, holding his weapon.

One of the first lessons Obi-Wan had told him was that his lightsaber was his life. It truly felt that way, here in an unfamiliar planet and time.

Han would have scoffed at him and twirled his blaster.  _ Hokey religions and ancient weapons are no match for a good blaster at your side, kid. _

The Daughter makes a surprised sound from behind him when she catches sight of it, a half-gasp half-sigh.

“A Jedi? Are you the chosen one?” Her voice seems to have thousands of echoes, a faint buzz underlying her words.

“No. But I am here to help the chosen one,” Luke says, surprising himself with how steady his voice comes out. He powers down the saber. “Where am I?”

“Welcome to Mortis,” a new voice says, one that Luke recognizes as the Father. “You may remain here until the Chosen One arrives. Watch out for my son”—his tone becomes weary—“he grows stronger every passing day.”

Luke thinks of the blood-red eyes in a face like ash and decides that it is sound advice. Avoiding the being who called himself “the dark side given form” seems like something that should be number one on his checklist of things to do to prevent the apocalypse. Force, he was in over his head. That seemed to be the story of his life—a backcountry farmer boy who had gotten himself into way too much trouble.

Speaking of trouble, the Son melted out of the shadows of the nearby cliff face, looking unimpressed with what he saw, giving Luke a once-over. “Hmph. Is this your pathetic Chosen One, Father? I can’t say I’m impressed. Let’s see if he survives the first night.”

He melts back into the darkness, taking the last of Luke’s self-confidence with him.

The Daughter harrumphs, crossing her arms almost petulantly. “I’m sure you’ll make it. Make it just to spite him.”

Then she walks away as well, the Father bowing to Luke once and somehow disappearing in the same breath.

And thus begins his stay on Mortis, awaiting his father’s arrival. Mortis is a strange, strange planet. During the day the place flourished, growing plants of every species and type, regardless of whether they would have survived in the climate or not. He even finds some plants from Tatooine—a black melon plant here and there, or a hubba gourd. He’d hated Hubba gourds as a kid—Aunt Beru spent hours trying to force him to eat the thing. But here they were less sour, almost sweet.

What is unsettling though is the lack of animals. Other than the three beings (he’s taken to calling them ghosts, for he rarely sees them, other than glimpses out of the corner of his eye) there is no sentient life. It is eerie, the lack of movement, despite the tremendous amount of force energy he could feel from the planet.

The landscape was perpetually shifting however, and it didn’t matter if he stayed in one place—it would always appear differently from one hour to the next. He could wake up to thick forests of deep greens, or molten caverns filled with lurid reds and yellows. He could have sworn that once he saw the Son watching him from one, red eyes piercing through the crumbling rock.

Once or twice he saw floating mountains, and perched upon them a white-green creature.

During the night the plants crumbled to ash, withering away. The sky became so deep black that it was almost impossible to make out the few star specks in the sky. The night was the Son’s time to roam, and when he fell asleep he swore he could make out his voice, deep and rich, whispering. 

He spends a week on Mortis, practicing lightsaber forms and writing down what he could remember from Obi-Wan’s training. In the day he’d hunt for food and water, staying as far away as possible from the beings of Mortis. At night he’d try to sleep. If he couldn’t (which was more often than he’d care to admit, haunted by the aching absence of Leia and Han) he’d go through the little book of Master Nu.

He’d had very little with him when he’d arrived—his lightsaber, the clothes on his back, and an old outdated book from a Jedi archivist named Jocasta Nu. The Rebels had found some of her remaining works that she had managed to keep from the Sith. Leia had given him the worn little book, seeing as it was filled with the names of past Jedi and ancient techniques.

Jocasta had written about herself a little, a few sparse lines indicating who she had been, and her hopes that the finder of the records would preserve them for a new age of Jedi. The book then went on to list a hundred or so Jedi and their accomplishments, a little memorial from Jocasta who would never see any of them ever again. It was a somber book, containing for her what must have been memories of an age gone by. It also detailed events of the war, dated meticulously. That would be helpful, except Luke had no idea what year he had arrived in and the beings of Mortis did not seem to care.

He’d tried asking the Daughter once, and she’d just blinked at him owlishly before turning into a half-bird half-lion creature and flying away, which answered approximately none of the questions Luke had and opened about a thousand more.

Anakin was prominent in the little book, and so was old man Ben—or General Obi-Wan Kenobi, he should say. Which will never stop being weird. There’s even a mention of a padawan his father had—Jocasta hadn’t written anything about her after her leaving the Jedi Order, aside from a little note that she might be one of the survivors. Had she survived? Had she been hiding out in the galaxy like Ben? Ahsoka, her name was. If she showed up with Anakin it could help him figure out how far in the past the force had drop-kicked him.

In any case, the book is extremely useful as it would allow him to create a new identity and hopefully join the Jedi Order. He looks through the pages containing past masters and tries to find one that had died before the Clone Wars had started—one he could claim had trained him in secret. An unorthodox Jedi that could serve as his excuse for having a lightsaber and limited training.

He looks for hours, scouring the pages. But it feels too risky and too wrong to claim apprenticeship to a dead Jedi, so he decides his cover will be that he was trained by an old master named Ben who left the Order many years ago. It feels right to have his first teacher be his guide in this new life. Besides, if they could sense lying, he was done for if he claimed anyone other than Ben had taught him.

So Luke begins to craft a backstory for himself in order to ensure the Jedi don’t potentially regard him as an enemy.

And thus begins the tale of Luke from Nowhere, Jedi apprentice to Ben before his death, brought to Mortis by unknown forces.

Then he peruses the book for any strange Jedi, seeing if he can find anyone who could give him clues on how to solve the Order 66 problem.

He finds one on the third day, using his lightsaber  as illumination to read in the awful darkness of Mortis’s night. Unfortunately, the Jedi is dead. Master Sifo-Dyas, who had been removed from the Jedi Council, and had been acting erratically before his death. Nu’s notes indicated that he was a strange one, pushing for the creation of the clone army before his demise.

It’s as good a start as any though, and he vows to look into Sifo-Dyas’s death.

On the last day before The Chosen One arrives, the Father appears before him, startling him out of his meditation.

“The Chosen one will balance the force, the prophecies say. How they do it is not disclosed.”

He waves a hand, and two pools of water appear, one glowing faintly with the light side, pulsing with the same energy as the Daughter. The other is tinged with red, and it feels like an angry heartbeat, the heartbeat of the Son.

“You see how they are in balance?”

Luke nods.

“This is not the only way to achieve balance,” the Father says. “Which is what worries me.”

And Luke has a moment of realization. Vader had, in fact, balanced the force—by cutting down the light side until it had only one user, then by turning on Sidious and killing him until there was only Luke.

“He drained the pools,” he whispers to himself.

The Father looks at him wearily. “That is one way to bring the balance. To cut down both sides. But you can also fill them both.” The water in the pools drains itself before rising to the top of the rock, nearly wetting Luke’s black robes. 

“Or you could even mix them.”

A channel forms in between the two pools, and the waters mix, becoming a pearly gray.

“It is up to the Chosen One to decide how the balance occurs. I trust you will guide them to the correct decision, young Jedi.”

So not only must he fix the disruption in the force caused by order 66, but he must also attempt to solve the problem of the balance for once and for all. 

From a distance, Luke can hear the sound of a ship, the whine of its engines. Anakin Skywalker has arrived on Mortis.

As he listens to the ship, he realizes it’s the sound of someone trying to start the engine to no avail—the occupants must have been drawn to Mortis and were trying to figure out what had happened to the ship.

The Father looks up at the sky with him, eyes full of foreboding. “He has come,” he mutters to himself. “Come. Let us take you to him.”

As they walk towards the whirring of the ship, the Father pauses for a half-second.

“The Sith have lost their way. Remember—what you do with a weapon decides whether it is good or bad,” he says. “My Son is not pure evil—merely another part of existence.”

Luke nods in understanding and turns to face the opening walkway and the figure descending it. They must have stopped attempting to leave, and were now going to explore the planet they had ended up on.

He smiles at the Father, and it turns into a grin.

“I am ready.”

After all, he has always believed that kinder endings are within reach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy star wars day y’all :)


	3. faces old and new, familiar and unknown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What the kriff,” Anakin says, with feeling.
> 
> “Language,” Obi-Wan sighs, like Anakin is still twelve years old and accidentally learning swears from R2.
> 
> Ahsoka snickers under her breath, like the traitor she is.
> 
> None of them remember landing the ship, and it was an oddly smooth landing too—given that they all seem to have slept through it.
> 
> That means it definitely wasn’t Obi-Wan flying the ship, because Anakin can count on one hand the number of happy landings his master has had. 
> 
> Or, Luke finally meets the people he’s supposed to save.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> testing season is mostly over for me so regular updates here we come!!!
> 
> also again huge thanks to @scarvletchaos for betaing!

“What the _kriff_ ,” Anakin says, with feeling.

“Language,” Obi-Wan sighs, like Anakin is still twelve years old and accidentally learning swears from R2.

Ahsoka snickers under her breath, like the traitor she is.

None of them remember landing the ship, and it was an oddly smooth landing too—given that they all seem to have slept through it.

That means it definitely wasn’t Obi-Wan flying the ship, because Anakin can count on one hand the number of happy landings his master has had. 

Anakin continues to push his point that it couldn’t have been Obi-Wan who landed the ship as he opens the ramp and descends onto the planet they’ve been stranded on. 

The navi-computer hasn’t been responding correctly. It had overheated upon trying to enter new coordinates. Given that none of them wanted to fry the only navigation source they had, they had elected to not test it further and instead check out their surroundings.

The planet was lush and green, but eerily quiet. Ahsoka gasps as she steps off the ship, clearly unprepared for the sheer amount of the Force that hits her as she emerges. It almost burns, like the feeling of fingers touching hot metal just before it becomes unbearable and his body instinctively jerks his hand away.

Obi-Wan is the last one off, practically radiating with curiosity. He’d probably want samples, like he did on every other forsaken planet they’d been to. Anakin wished the other Jedi understood what a nerd Obi-Wan was. He also wished for Obi-Wan to understand that Anakin did not destroy his plant samples on purpose, and that it was Ahsoka’s fault. Except the one that he’d used to prank Rex, that one was his fault. Not that he would ever tell Obi-Wan that.

The woman is the first thing living being they see, a little ways away from the ship. Oddly enough, she singles him out, looking him in the eyes that are a vivid green, glowing like a kyber crystal.

“The Chosen One,” she says, voice heavy. “You have arrived.” Obi-Wan stiffens at the words.

Anakin just shrugs—he’s been called worse, it’s better than an insult, honestly.

What makes everyone take pause is the arrival of the scary man with the teeth. 

“I am the Son, thé Fanged God, the Dark side given form,” he growls, in a voice oddly reminiscent of Maul. 

“What in the world,” he hears Ahsoka mutter from behind him. “I didn’t think we’d meet anyone as full of themselves on this mission as you, master,” she snarks. He levels the full force of his glare on her as they activate their sabers.

Then the woman waves her hand and their weapons go dark. Which is honestly more terrifying than the ashen, red tinted dark side user—powering off their sabers with a wave of their hand? The power required to do so—these are no ordinary beings.

“I am Daughter, Winged Goddess, light side distilled.” She sounds almost bored, as if she’s given this particular schpiel a thousand times.

“Glad she cleared that up for us,” he mutters under his breath, as Obi-Wan strokes his beard.

And just when things couldn’t get any stranger, two more figures pop out of the woods. A wizened old man whose skin was crackled and gray, his face lined and sharp. And a young man, clearly human who is golden haired and bright in the Force.

For a second it’s almost like looking at a sunspot, after images of Light lingering behind his eyelids. Just as suddenly as it had come the feeling is gone, and he’s looking at a normal boy, one who he could have met on Tatooine years ago. He’s wearing a from fitting black outfit, with a belt to which something is clipped. It’s oddly striking against his golden hair.

In fact, the man looks oddly familiar—the curve of his smile and the shape of his eyes. So close to something he can almost pinpoint before it slips away and all he’s left with is a vague feeling of frustration that he knows this man, knows those eyes.

The man looks a little startled, and his expression morphes rapidly. 

“Oh,” the man whispers softly, sounding faintly surprised even though he was the one who approached.

Anakin can’t quite make out the minute changes of his features, but he thinks he caught a flash of regret and sorrow, and something that had looked like hope. his gaze lingers on him and Obi-Wan, looking almost grief-stricken. A pang of regret reverberates through the Force before being sniffed out.

Strange. Very, very strange.

“I am the Father,” the old being states. “I keep the balance.”

There’s a pause until the blond realizes it’s his turn to introduce himself.

“I’m Luke S—Luke, and I am here to help you! I’m human,” he adds, tacked on like an afterthought. There’s a slight stumble as he gets through his name. The kid smiles sheepishly as he finishes.

Anakin decides he is afraid of this kid, who is clearly sunshine incarnate and much too pure for his own good. He’s scarier than the Son. Obi-Wan already seems to like the kid, eyebrow raised and with a small smile.

The blond’s expression grows more serious as he pulls out—a lightsaber? He ignites it and it glows green for a moment, before he powers it down. “I am a Jedi, like my master before me.”

That makes everyone take pause again.

Clearly uncertain of how to proceed, the man—Luke, his name is Luke—falters.

It’s Ahsoka in all her tactless glory who breaks the tension. “Then how do you get here? And who’s your master? I’ve never seen you before, and neither have Skyguy and Master Kenobi.”

“Ahsoka—“ Anakin starts, unsure of where to even begin. Why does he get ‘Skyguy’ when Obi-Wan gets ‘Master’?

The Jedi laughs, though it sounds a little sad. “My master left the Jedi Order years ago. He trained me in secret, but he passed on before he could complete my training. I was able to construct a lightsaber—and after his death the Force brought me here, to Mortis.”

Something about the story rings a little hollow, like it’s a half-truth or a stretched one. But Anakin can’t sense a lie, and judging by Obi-Wan’s relaxing posture neither can he. And the Jedi seems honestly regretful, some of the grief bleeding into his tone.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Obi-Wan manages in the following silence. He’s already been the more articulate one of their little group. Anakin does not say anything, imagining the pain of losing his master and deciding he would rather not think about it.

Luke shakes his head. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” His mouth quirks up in a half smile, as if there is something ironic about what Kenobi has said.

“What year is it? I’ve been on Mortis for a w—for far too long.”

“3257 LY,” Ahsoka pipes up. “You do know about the Clone Wars, right?”

“Somewhat,” Luke offers vaguely. “Enough to know you all are the good guys.”

Then the Father launches into a whole speech that Anakin honestly only pays half attention to, more interested in watching the strange half-Jedi.

He’s almost openly staring at them, arms crossed in his black robes. Anakin should feel rankled at not meeting whatever invisible expectations this absolute stranger (with too familiar eyes, and a smile he knows, he knows) has for him, but he gets the sense it’s not out of malice.

It’s amazing how welcoming he can look, considering his clothes feel more appropriate for a funeral or a stealth mission. He’s calm, but still faintly radiating emotion into the force, as if keeping a grip on his emotions. Anakin would need to form a bond with him to get a better read on what the Jedi’s feeling.

He tunes back in to reality as the Father is finishing up his monologue—

“—and that is why you, Skywalker, must stay here on Mortis to keep the balance after my passing.”

What?

Predictably, Ahsoka responds first.

“He can’t do that! There’s a war to fight and training to do and—“

“Snips,” Obi-Wan sighs. “Please do not sass the powerful force being with powers beyond our understanding or knowledge.”

Personally, Anakin is proud of the way Ahsoka seems to be taking after him, not that he would ever admit it out loud.

“And if I don’t?”

The Father looms over them. “Then watch the world burn.”

Oddly enough, the Son scoffs at that.

Anakin swallows. Ah. That old nugget.

The blond furrows his brow, as if he did not expect the Father’s demand either.

“How do you even know if I’m the Chosen One?”

The Son and the Daughter both move, so fast they blur, leaping towards him. Gasping, he throws his hands up to reach for the Force and push them away, and succeeds much more than he thought he would. 

It’s almost as if he’s pushing them into the ground, holding them back. They bow to him, this woman who had stopped their weapons with a wave of her hand and this creature who radiated a twisted, dark energy.

The Father raises an eyebrow, as if daring him to deny his role.

Luke looks impressed but unsurprised. But there’s still a trace of the resignation, the fear. Anakin hasn’t done anything to warrant that reaction. Not yet, at least.

That’s when the Son grins, and even though Anakin reacts fast, pushing him down again, he makes a pulling motion with his hand and tugs Ahsoka towards him with an invisible force.

The edges of his vision go red and he can feel the anger sparking within him, white-hot like a dying star. Ahsoka is _his_ padawan, and he’ll be damned if anything happens to her.

 _Attachment is not the Jedi way,_ a voice that sounds suspiciously like Qui-Gon whispers in his mind. He shoves it aside and launches himself towards the Son.

Luke does as well, and the two of them pull out their lightsabers in tandem. Blue and green, a bulwark against the dark.

When the Son pulls Ahsoka against him and holds a dagger against her throat, they both stop, almost losing their balance. The dagger is sharp, like a piece of the night cut from the sky—devoid of any stars, only filled with inky darkness. 

“Release me, Father,” the Son snarls. “Or the youngling dies.”

“I’m not a youngling anymore,” Ahsoka yells, kicking her feet out and struggling against his grip, pushing at his arms. “I’m a padawan!” she huffs, straining to free herself.

The Daughter rises to her height from where Anakin had subdued her and transforms into a griffin-like creature, sending Ahsoka and the Son sprawling. 

Anakin manages to get to her, taking up a protective stance as she coughs and struggles to get to her feet. 

“You alright?”

“Yes, Master.”

He gently hands her her lightsaber from where it had fallen among the mossy grass.

They both turn, just in time to watch the Son attempt to impale the Father with his blade. Luke does his best to fight him off, showing surprising skill. Especially for someone whose master died midway through training. It’s rough, as if he only had time to learn the basics and then improvise from there, but commendable. Anakin and Ahsoka circle them, waiting for an opening.

The Son, sensing that Luke will be harder to take down, hurls his blade at another target. 

It’s Ahsoka again, he realizes far too late, yelling before he’s fully cognizant of what he’s saying. 

The blade catches Ahsoka in the gut, and it corrupts her—thin veiny lines spreading out from where it had connected until she is ashy and gray, none of the brightness she always had shining out of her.

“ _Ahsoka!”_

The yell that comes out of his mouth is filled with rage.

Ahsoka pauses for a moment, before launching herself at Obi-Wan, obviously under the control of the Son. 

Their lightsabers clash, as Obi-Wan tries to overpower her without causing harm. Obi-Wan manages to disarm her, one of her sabers clattering to the ground. Evidently sensing the fight turning in his favor, Ahsoka retreats, grey vein-like markings clearly visible as she drops into a defensive stance by the Son.

Luke begins engaging with her. “Go,” he shouts. “I’ll handle her, you got after the Son!”

They do as he says.

They manage to corner the Son as Luke corners Ahsoka, and Anakin snarls.

“Release her.”

The Son laughs cruelly.

He presses in closer, Obi-Wan only a step behind.

And then the Son flings his dagger towards Ahsoka, attempting a distraction. Luke notices, but can’t move fast enough to block it.

There’s a blur of white and green that seemingly materializes in front of his padawan, taking the blade square in the chest. The Daughter goes down, glow fading and breath coming in gasps. The Son screams, a haunting sound that rings in his ears. Anakin watches as he runs towards her, taking the blade out and brushing his fingers against her face. He keens, full of regret and sorrow. Beside him, Ahsoka crumples. Anakin and Obi-Wan head to Ahsoka’s side, Luke running to the sisters' side where the Son is standing over her.

“Sister,” he snarls quietly. “I never wanted to hurt you this way.”

Luke kneels down beside her, unafraid of the Son. He takes one of her hands, providing gentle comfort—Anakin can feel him pulsing warmth through the Force. The Daughter half-smiles at that. 

She raises her other hand to cradle her brother's cheek. “I know you didn’t,” she whispers through the gasps. “Oh, brother, I know you didn’t.”

The Son roars and wenches himself out of her grasp, transforming into his griffin form and flying away.

The Daughter feebly points to Ahsoka, managing to get out something about a transfer. He agrees almost immediately—he’d never let anyone hurt Ahsoka. Never. Anakin acts as a conduit, feeling a bright white-hot burning, _warm-cold bright-blinding,_ as what feels like pure Force shoots through him and Ahsoka.

The Daughter gasps, and then the last of her glow fades. Immediately, Mortis is plunged into darkness, only illuminated by their lightsabers and the few distant stars. The Father lets out a sorrowful breath, picking up the dagger from where it had been thrown.

“She is gone, and the balance has been undone.”

Anakin knows there is only one way to undo it.

He leaves Obi-Wan behind to watch over Ahsoka—he would rather have his former master with him, but he doesn’t feel comfortable leaving his recently-dead padawan with the a jedi half-ling they’ve known for less than an hour. So he and Luke go to hunt down the Son.

Between the two of them, they make quick work of finding him and working in tandem to bring the fight over to the Father.

They back off when the two force-wielders catch sight of each other, the old man speaking quietly to the red-eyed one he calls son. The Father manages to tug the dagger out of his son's hand almost gently.

The Father says nothing as he moves behind the Son, ready to place the killing blow. Unnervingly, the Son says nothing, though he must hear the buzz of the activation of the lightsaber.

“It did not have to be this way, Father.” He lunges for the sky, halfway through his transformation when the old being shifts his grip on the dagger and plunges it into his own chest. 

The Son screams again, and it echoes in the canyons of Mortis’s shifting terrain.

“I hate you,” he screams, even as the Father hugs him close. Everyone can hear the lie.

“Farewell, my Son.”

Anakin puts his blade through them both.

He pulls it out almost immediately. Luke watches him calmly, no judgement in his eyes.

“And so you have betrayed me, Father,” the Son gasps before collapsing, eyes closed. Anakin catches Luke closing his eyes, as if the scene is familiar and he cannot bear to watch.

The Father lays down the Son’s body gently, resting his hand for an extra moment on his cheek, much like the Daughter had. 

“Balance has been restored,” he says. _At what cost_ goes unspoken.

“Bring balance to the galaxy, to the Force,” he manages to say, collapsing slowly. He looks at both Luke and Anakin as he speaks, his piercing gaze inescapable. 

Movement from behind him catches Luke’s eye. It’s Obi-Wan and Ahsoka, who had managed to witness the final battle.

“Speak of this to no one,” the Father says, addressing them all. “What happened here on Mortis is to remain a secret.”

With a shaking hand he points at Luke. “This one will aid you, take him with you. He was brought to Mortis for a reason. Use his guidance.” The last few words are punctuated with racking coughs.

And he disappears, leaving behind the bodies of the Son and the Daughter.

Ahsoka and Obi-Wan appear at Anakin’s side, both looking fine and in good shape. Hecan’t help himself—he rushes over and pulls her into a quick hug, reminding himself that attachment is forbidden and he’s already broken the rule with Padme.

There’s a moment of silence as they regard the Son and Daughter, no longer glowing ethereally but missing that spark that had made them larger than life.

They leave them with the dagger, in a crypt that had appeared in the rocky cliff face. Luke looks upon them sadly, a brother and sister torn apart. It reminds him of Leia, his gut clenching painfully. He shifts their bodies, side by side, so that they curl into one another, then places the Daughter’s hand in the Son’s. As if they were clasping each other, finding each other in death the way they couldn’t in life.

Ahsoka looks saddened, and Anakin places a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Take heart, little one.”

She takes one last look at the Daughter, gently resting her palm on the hand that wasn’t clasped in the Son’s for a moment. For a moment, Anakin swears he sees a bit of the daughter’s glow shine from her eyes, a hazy green. But then she turns to look at him and her eyes are normal, if a bit wetter than usual. It must have been a trick of the light.

They head back to the ship, mood somber. 

When they board the craft, Obi-Wan pauses as the door closes and he heads to the cockpit.

“You never did say what your master’s name was, Luke.”

Luke zeroes in on a point just past his face, eyes a million years away and his mind no longer in the present. He wonders at the irony of it all, of this General Kenobi asking after his old master when they were one in the same.

“His name was Ben.” It comes out fond and tinged with the smile of memory, like this Ben was a kind figure in Luke’s memory.

Obi-Wan pats his shoulder gently. “You'll have to tell us all about him, he must have been a great master.”

Luke grins.

“Oh, he was. He reminds me of you, actually.”

Kenobi smiles at that, and turns to face Anakin and Ahsoka, who are doing an absolutely terrible job pretending to not be eavesdropping from the cockpit.

And Luke fills something like hope fill his chest. He might just pull this off, and save this, these versions of his father and mentor.

He turns towards the stars and looks towards the new future, with a new hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anakin has zero chill when it comes to Ashoka and Luke is a sunshine child from a death planet, these are my hot takes


	4. lost and found in the nexus points

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan doesn’t know what to make of the Jedi half-ling.
> 
> “He seems almost familiar,” Anakin murmurs as they drift through hyperspace. 
> 
> Obi-Wan makes a noise of assent.
> 
> They watch Ashoka methodically clean her lightsaber for a few minutes, and Luke as he sits lost in thought, eyes shadowed. 
> 
> He looks lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> life has finally become less crazy so I have a new chapter for you!!! again betaed by the wonderful @shutupanakin on instagram

Luke wonders if he should have thought this plan through more. Now he’s on a starship on his way to Coruscant, with a young Darth Vader and Obi-Wan, and the padawan he’d never met.

And two-thirds of them were confirmed dead in his timeline, with Ahsoka most likely having followed in their footsteps.

Luke hasn’t thought life could have gotten weirder, what with the space wizards and the Force in general and strange Jedi masters in swamp planets, but he was wrong. So very wrong.

Everything had happened so fast on Mortis and only now is he realizing the true danger of the situation and the stakes. And who he’d have to see. And just how thoroughly unprepared he was. Force, he’d still been raw from the fight with Sidious.

He missed Leia so much—she was always the more practical one of the two of them. She’d know what to do. She was like a force of nature, flattening anyone who got in her way with a few contemptuous words or with blaster fire if necessary. And now he doesn’t know if he’ll ever see her again. 

The Skywalker twins, destined to keep losing each other over and over again. Destined to forever be galaxies apart, kept separated by the stars. He shakes himself out of that line of thought before he can get too deep into it and focuses on the rest of the people on the starship.

He feels oddly trapped—seeing Obi-Wan and Anakin alive hurts more than he thought it would. It’s like seeing everything he could have had, had everything not gone to hell. He can almost see their future selves super-imposed on their current bodies--twisted by age and a thousand, thousand tragedies. 

(A whole path, lost. And those who remember it cursed to exile.)

(The Skywalker legacy.)

(This is what you were born into. A new hope.)

Anakin in particular is jarring to see. He can see why Obi-Wan has described him the way he had the first time. _He was the best star-pilot in the galaxy, and a cunning warrior._

Luke isn’t quite sure about the star-pilot bit yet. Anakin and Obi-Wan have been arguing over the proper way to fly a ship for the past hour, when they aren’t sneaking glances at him. But he knows Anakin’s skills are legendary. He’d seen Vader in action, coming after him with the TIE fighter and getting closer and closer until Luke thought for sure he’d be shot out of the sky—

He pulled his knees into his chest in one of the seats, alternating between spectating the argument and watching Ahsoka clean her lightsaber. She’s patient, methodical about it. Luke wonders why Obi-Wan never talked about her and decides that the memory was too painful. Maybe he had watched her die in Order 66. 

He’d never know what happened to her originally. He hopes fervently that she made it out. Or maybe dying was the better option here, than living only to go into hiding while the Separatist Empire grew and loomed like an inescapable shadow. Maybe she’d died in the first wave of Order 66, or the purge afterward, or just gone into hiding and never had anything to do with the Jedi again.

Force, he can’t think of anything positive at the moment. Each train of thought is more depressing than the last, so he puts his chin on his knees and continues to watch Obi-Wan snark at Anakin. He can see traces of their older counterparts in the way they move—the way Anakin holds himself, Obi-Wan's sweeping hand gestures and the way he strokes his beard when deep in thought. His old master is a lot more animated now though, than he ever was in the future. Some of that was likely due to old age, and the other half due to losing everyone he had held dear.

But still the most drastic transformation had to have been Anakin, for him to become Vader. Luke can’t quite believe that this man would bring an end to the time of the Jedi. He seemed so kind, so strong. In tune with the Force.There was an undercurrent of something within him though--like a livewire, silently sparking. 

Luke can see some of Vader’s anger--a brasher, fiery version--in him. When he’d thought Ahsoka had fallen he’d _burned._

He cuts off that train of thought as well, thinking of Vader’s pale, burnt skin under his suit and the _hiss_ of his breathing. He finds himself lost in thought, reflecting over the prowess that all three Jedi on the ship had shown.

Luke had thought his saber skills had improved, but seeing the three Jedi fight had shown him just how outclassed he was. He could probably hold his own in a fight, but not much beyond that. Even Ahsoka could probably wipe the floor with him. 

He doesn’t even want to think about what he’s going to do if he ends up having to fight Sidious alone, without Vader to throw him down a shaft.

Sidious has been a cruel, twisted man—looking almost half-melted like wax and enveloped in the dark side.

Nothing like Vader had been at the very end, just a worn-out soul finally returning to itself.

…

Obi-Wan doesn’t know what to make of the Jedi half-ling.

“He seems almost familiar,” Anakin murmurs as they drift through hyperspace. 

Obi-Wan makes a noise of assent.

They watch Ashoka methodically clean her lightsaber for a few minutes, and Luke as he sits lost in thought, eyes shadowed. 

He looks lost.

Again, Obi-Wan is hit by the striking resemblance to Anakin all those years ago. He wonders if Anakin remembers what being that child was like, if he sees himself in Luke. It’s strange, given that Luke isn’t even that young in comparison to Anakin--maybe a few years off give or take. 

But Obi-Wan hadn’t known what to say to that little boy all those years ago (would Qui-Gon have?), still doesn’t know how to get through to Anakin and remind him that he is here, his _brother,_ and that he doesn’t have to hold his anger alone. He doesn’t know what to say now. He doesn’t know what to say to this boy either.

So he sits there in silence with Anakin, and they watch the depths of space go by.

…

Eventually, they receive a call from the Jedi Council, their hologram forms glowing in the ship, bright blue reflecting off the gray walls. Luke looks faintly awed, and Ahsoka guesses that it has to do with his master being the only Jedi he’d known until now. He comes closer to the holograms as Obi-Wan and Anakin run through their mission report, eyes wide. (By some form of silent agreement, none of them talk about the Beings of Mortis. Obi-wan makes up a spiel about weird Force readings from the planet and skirts around the Father, Daughter and Son entirely. He’s a good liar, Ahsoka notes--far better than Anakin.) 

Ahsoka notices that Luke can’t seem to keep his eyes off Yoda, surveying the collection of Jedi in front of him. His eyes pass over Shaak-Ti and Master Windu, coming to rest on the green Jedi with surprising intent, almost as if he has something to say. Luke makes the mistake of coming too close, and Anakin grabs him by the collar and shoves him forward so the Council can see him.

“This is the Jedi we found,” Anakin is saying, holding on to him like a lost Loth-cat. Luke freezes, before straightening in Anakin’s grip and bearing the full might of the judgement of the Council. Ahsoka’s almost impressed by his stature--he looks tall, standing there in his black robes. (He also looks alone.) Windu raises an eyebrow. The rest of the Council looks surprised, looking on with interest. 

The Council asks a few questions, about his Master and such, Luke answering them quietly and with more grace than she’d thought he’d have. Some of his sunny personality is showing through though--he cracks a grin when they ask him how long he’d been on Mortis. 

“Force if I know,” he laughs, and the Council asks a few lingering questions before asking them to report to the Temple immediately. The call ends, leaving the ship feeling darker than before without the bright blue illumination. 

Anakin lets go of Luke, who stumbles without the hand holding him up and then scrambles to his feet, looking worried. He also looks almost haunted.

“What do you think they’ll say?” he asks, no longer looking like an ancient statue carved from stone, and Ahsoka knows that feeling of awe and half-fear that they inspire. She may be a Padawan, but they are still intimidating. She walks up to him and shoulder checks him, making him wince.

“You’ll be fine,” she assures him. “They always make the right decisions.”

  
  
  


(Don’t they?)

Luke doesn’t seem reassured by this.

...

Windu would like to know how Skywalker attracts trouble wherever he goes. You’d think a routine mission, the kind he gets assigned weekly, wouldn’t result in mysterious Jedi popping out of nowhere on a planet no one even knew _existed_ until now that suddenly doesn’t appear on any maps. At all. And Skywalker claims it disappeared. 

Windu very much wants to dangle him out of a window. He gets the feeling Obi-Wan wants to do the same.

At least the new Jedi—Luke—seems like a better influence than Anakin.

His voices had traces of farm boy in it, almost like Anakin when he had first come to the temple. In fact, the kid looks surprisingly like Anakin, a blonder version of the little boy who’d come to Coruscant all those years ago. Also a nicer version. The kid had been polite and so sunny in disposition.

Windu can only hope that he gives the Council less tension headaches than Skywalker.

…

Seeing the Council had been unlike anything he’d expected--so many Jedi, all powerful and looking at him with thinly veiled surprise. It’s also putting everything in perspective, showing how many Jedi had been lost. Nu’s book details many of their deaths--some before Vader’s betrayal and many afterwards, and some who’s fates were unknown entirely. The woman in the black robes, with only her green-yellow face showing, that had to be Master Luminara, who Nu had written could possibly still be in the custody of the Empire. Nu had mentioned that Yoda could have escaped, and Luke knows firsthand that he did. He can feel the panic rising in his chest. How is he supposed to save all of them? 

Ahsoka must think he’s nervous about the Council, because she not so subtly distracts him with a game on the holo, Dejarik Dejarik. It reminds him of the Millennium Falcon, and long nights spent watching Chewie and Han play while Leia scoffed at Han’s inability to strategize. It feels comforting, like if he turns he’ll see them sitting there, laughing in the Falcon’s familiar interior. 

They arrive on Coruscant to a brilliant sunrise, showing off the true shine and crowd of the city-planet. Luke has never seen anything like it in all his years.

Of course, growing up on Tatooine did not offer much in terms of city-life and splendor--but nowhere in his galaxy had he seen anything this full of people or so _vibrant._ The city glimmered in the rising sun, with so much movement and liveliness.

Luke is beginning to understand the husk of itself that the galaxy had become during the Empire’s influence. Wonders what Coruscant looked like in his time, whether it was a shell of its former self. His galaxy had been so, so barren, in comparison. A grayer, lifeless version of this blinding bygone era. 

Ahsoka laughs when she catches him slack-jawed. “Wait till you see the temple,” she says, grabbing him by the hand. She drags him along with her and he picks up his pace as she starts pointing out buildings along the skyline. She seems to have gotten over any and all mistrust of him, treating him like a fellow padawan.

Anakin and Obi-Wan are making arrangements for the ship, so they have a bit of time before they’ll be taken to the temple. 

In the meantime, Ahsoka takes him all over Coruscant, showing him her favorite places. He’s floored by all the color--ladies in all shades of the plants growing on Mortis, waiters and waitresses in various uniforms, the occasional droid in all models and colors. 

They weave through the crowds, below skyscraper after skyscraper. He peers into the levels below, that seem to stretch endlessly on as they make their way around the city—Galactic City, Ahsoka had called it.

There’s more people than he’s ever seen before, and he’d thought the Rebel bases were crowded. Ahsoka lets him watch the speeders go by on the crowded highway, then takes him to places lower under the shiny surface that are dimmer and seedier and more like Mos Eisley.

Eventually Ahsoka gets a comm from Anakin and they head over to the Senate district with the Jedi temple. It’s buzzing with ships coming and going, buildings chrome and silver and harshly reflecting the sunlight. 

Then the temple appears, five spires reaching towards the sky. He reaches out with the Force and it feels like dipping a hand into warm water, touching a live wire, like Ben. A nexus point. It feels like coming home.

Obi-Wan smiles at him.

They enter the temple doors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was really fun to write, let me know what you thought! And come bother me on tumblr

**Author's Note:**

> as always any form of feedback (kudos or comment!) is very very appreciated :)
> 
> pls come talk to me on tumblr, i have the same username


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